HAPPY BIRTHDAY, TOYBOY WAREHOUSE!
When people ask me why a woman of my age and intelligence (duh?) prefers flirty, flighty toyboys to sensible, suitable partners, I profess not to understand the question. It’s a no brainer – I mean, who would you rather consort with: an old goat or a young ram?
I’m no spring chicken (G-d, this is starting to sound like a barnyard) and old goats are all very well in their place, but that place is certainly not my big, white bed. As far as I’m concerned, they look perfectly at home in the Grand Tier at the Royal Opera House, the chef’s table at Claridge’s or the driving seat of a Bentley Continental, but with their greasy, grey heads on my goose down pillows? I don’t think so!
You see, I’ve been spoilt…I’ve savoured the delights of the smooth, sinewy, sumptuous sausage and I’m loath to change my diet in case it disagrees with me. I appreciate, of course, that this regimen may not be to every woman’s taste. Some may prefer the familiarity of the bendy banana but let’s assume, for the purposes of culinary continuity, that you fancy fondling a firmer pair of plums.
Jiminy Cricket, or some such cute little Disney character, said: ‘You Gotta Have Confidence!’ and that, my friends, is the key. Confidence attracts, confidence confirms, confidence fools some of the people some of the time. It may be your very own self who needs fooling, but once you’ve cracked the toyboy code, the rewards are immeasurable.
While the vast majority of single older women I know are searching for a kind, chivalrous, well-preserved, financially-secure older gentleman with whom to spend their autumn years, us lot stick two fingers up to all that and opt for the insecure, inappropriate, inconsistent, intoxication of a fit, young buck. We’ve worked out that what older men want is a cook, housekeeper, nursemaid, ironing bored (sic) and sex slave. Yeerrgghh!
We’ve also learned the hard way (hmmm…) that toyboy carousing is far from plain sailing… you need guts, gusto, and the ability to overlook the fact that some of them are w*nkers. Young or old, they’re only men, so what do you expect? But if you have the stomach for it, toyboys are like Heineken: they reach the parts older men cannot reach. They stir the senses, awaken the emotions, kickstart your metabolism, elevate you to the headiest heights and generally go down a treat. We like this a lot!!
We don’t like the fact that they go off the radar just when we thought we’d got them sussed, only to re-appear with no prior warning looking to pick up where they left off. We are women, guys, not doughnuts! Like the little girl who had a little curl, when they are good, they are very, very good, but when they are bad, they are horrid.
Be good, guys. You’re the cream in our coffee, the lace on our lingerie, and the budding new shoots in our winter gardens.
Julia, we salute you. The new charges will have some impact, but may the site go from strength to strength and good luck going global!
By Poshbird aka Wendy Salisbury author of The Toyboy Diaries available at all good bookstores and on Amazon